i'm seriously obsessed with scooters. my leisure time largely concerns working on my vespa, organizing rides with my club, and going to scooter rallies. it's worse than a coke habit. i also have a corset habit (no less expensive) and a love for shoes. i like shopping (too much), dancing, singing badly, devising games to play on two wheels (scooter laser tag, anyone?), plotting, decorating my home, paying to have ink poked into my skin, spreading the word on the squirrel situation, teen girl squad, procuring new pieces of flare, and drinking and riding irresponsibily much to the dismay of my compatriots in the utmc but to the delight of the mods and knockers.
I'd like to meet:
satan. and those canadian scooter girls who write vegan cookbooks. anyone who knows offhand when to celebrate national talk like a pirate day. people who understand the allure of typewriters, the importance of saving endangered cocktails, and/or the sweet sweet love of two-stroke.
Music:
i think i am musically retarded. not just because i actually forgot what my role is in the mullet cowboys (triangle? yeah yeah girl? some sort of drum? seriously, if you have an album or are/were a member of the band, please tell me) or that i neglected my side rap project so completely. no, i simply lack the intense passion i see in so many of my peers when it comes to music. unless we're talking about me first and the gimme gimmes. or radio traffic reports.
Movies:
costume dramas. indie flicks. funny movies. films concerning any or all of the following: the last day of high school, baseball, mistaken identity, riding motorcycles, blowing shit up, singing and dancing, buying into absurd notions of romance and storybook love.
Television:
i think the television gods hate me. west wing? gone. gilmore girls? gone. grey's anatomy? so not what it used to be. seriously. thanks be that we will always and forever have ANTM.
Books:
i have my books back now. i've taken to spending my should-be-studying time running my fingers over the bindings and flipping through them and reading random passages. it's pornographic, literarily speaking. i'm sad my couch didn't make it to philly but thank god for my books.
